


your signature on my lips (purple calligraphy)

by ElasticElla



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s10e22 The Prisoner, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 18:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20511524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Sam doesn’t take his time killing Crowley.





	your signature on my lips (purple calligraphy)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [klutzy_girl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/klutzy_girl/gifts).

“You’ve done it,” Rowena says, eyes wide as she takes her son’s heart, dropping the tattered jacket it was wrapped in.

There’s an odd expression on her face, but Sam doesn’t have time for that. “The translation. Now.”

“Aye,” she murmurs, doesn’t take her eyes off the organ. She twists her free hand, spiky purple calligraphy filling a blank notebook page. The ease is as impressive as it is frustrating, that Dean could have been helped that much faster. He doesn’t say anything, picking up the notebook- doubtless they’ll need a witch to actually do the spell, and Rowena’s a hair trigger.

.

Dean is fully human again.

It’s almost anticlimactic with how many times they’ve saved each other from worse fates. Of how much worse things could have gone. Charlie’s still dead, and now that they have a second to breathe, it hits all the harder. Dean disappears to his room with a six pack, Cas goes off to fuck knows where, and Sam ends up alone in the bunker’s library with Rowena. (He’ll be doing a thorough inventory after she leaves, has caught her eyeing a few texts.)

“We couldn’t have done it without you.”

"Flatterer," she says with a grin. 

Sam pushes his hair back, "No I mean it- if Dean had been too far gone- you saved him." 

She titters, red curls bouncing, “Tryin’ to turn little ole me into a white witch Samuel?”

“It feels good doesn’t it? To do the right thing.”

Her eyes light up, and for a split-second, Sam thinks he really got through to her. And then Rowena giggles, heels clicking as she walks up to him. “Tha’ was nothin’. Yer gonna have to try harder if ya want me.”

Sam gulps, there’s no mistaking her meaning, a taunting smirk curled into red lipstick. She doesn’t think he’ll go for it. She’s bluffing, she must be, and Sam’s ready to accuse her of some crazy sex magic that explains why his pulse is racing so fast. It’s completely unfair, that she could snap her fingers and have him in another country, that she looks so very petite and fuckable, that he could hold her in the middle of this damn room and-

She takes the last step, and he falls against the table, the edge supporting him more than he’d admit. Rowena goes even further into his space, nails catching his jaw as she pats him, tingles racing across his cheek.

“Well? I dinnae-”

Sam kisses her. He isn’t going to play another hour of trading verbal barbs and flirtations. Either she’s going to slap him or-

Rowena is kissing him back. It shouldn’t be such a surprise, but it’s a damn revelation. Her clever hands spin him all around, she has him sitting on the table, straddling his lap, and fuck he’s never going to be able to work at this table again. (Or in the room.) It’s a fleeting thought, and then Rowena’s magicking away all of their clothes and she’s a damn wonder. She’s tight and wet, and she moans so prettily in his ear that the noises must be spells. It’s painfully quick, and Sam thinks they could go at it all night and he’d still lament the shortness.

She’s abrupt after, snaps herself clean and clothing back on, leaves Sam naked and covered in their fluids. Sam looks around for his boxers, a sinking suspicion that she magicked them out of the bunker, as she goes to depart.

“Wait! You um-” he stumbles over the question, childish feeling, tacking another one on instead. “Team good people?” And oh god, that’s somehow worse than the half-formed ‘do you wanna have sex again? Like tomorrow?’

Rowena laughs, walking upstairs to the door. “Maybe if ya put yer back into it next time Samuel.”

The heavy metal door slams shut behind her, leaving Sam in a confusing cocktail of feelings, embarrassment floating to the top. He wasn’t a teenager and they’d had sex out in the open with- his stomach drops as he remembers the cameras, running to his room. Clothes first, then destroy the security tapes, then make a plan for Rowena.

(…or maybe he’ll save the tapes. For uh, studying Rowena’s powers. She is after all, a very formidable witch.)

**Author's Note:**

> <strike>and explicit pregnancy didn't find it's way in here, but uh it's not like they used condoms so X)</strike>


End file.
